Star Trek: The Dark Between the Stars
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: "Can you learn to see in the dark?"


**The Dark Between the Stars**

 _Can you learn to see in the dark?_

The words were but thoughts, so none could hear them. If he had spoken them out loud, only a few on the bridge would have sampled them. If he had broadcast them from the _R'Silvia_ 's viewscreen, perhaps in a few hundred years, a primitive civilization would listen in on them as the words through the void. But there was no way that the crew of the Dominion battleship could hear him. Not through any mortal means. And mortality was a prospect that everyone on the enemy ship was currently facing.

"Transport Team A is away. Transport Team B moving in in three…two…one…mark."

He remained standing. He despised A'mul. Being romulan was enough reason to despise anyone of that misbegotten race, but the man was closer to his back than a whip. But he got things done. Namely sending over reman war parties to a jem'hadar battleship that the _R'Silvia_ had disabled alongside the _M'Kul_ and _Sabinae_. All three Warbirds had de-cloaked in sync, and had trained their fire on the Dominion ship with just as much efficiency. Romulan technology and skill in deception had carried the day. And now, as was so often the case in the Dominion War, reman soldiers were being transported to seize the ship. To prepare it for investigation by the Tal'Shiar. And kill everyone onboard.

And so his question remained – could they see in the dark? The ship was dead in the water, and the remans would have no trouble navigating its corridors. Would the Dominion see their killers coming before it was too late? And, if so, how many remans had to die?

"I should be there."

Those words were spoken out loud. And only Vkruk heard them. Officially a tactical officer. Unofficially his second in command. Because while this ship was "officially unofficially" under the command of Agent A'mul, and "officially officially" under the command of Shinzon, Bastard Child of Remus and Captain of the _R'Silvia "_ because desperate times call for desperate measures," Shinzon knew the real power was in Vkruk's hands. If he wanted, he could order his brothers to tear apart every non-reman onboard. And in the orgy of carnage the sons of Remus excelled at, he wasn't sure if he would be spared.

"You are troubled."

Even if he ordered otherwise. And Shinzon smiled uneasily.

"It troubles you."

He kept his gaze impassive. Reports came over comms – disruptor fire, jem'hadar, and casualties on both sides. Jem'hadar fought to the end. They were every bit the equal of remans.

"I should be there," Shinzon repeated. "My brothers are dying, and I'm here opening the gates to Hell for them."

"Hell is far away," Vruk said. "We are a warrior race. They do not fear dying."

"Perhaps not. But what are they dying for?" He made a nod towards A'mul. "Men like him?"

"For the Empire."

"Ah yes. Of course."

Shinzon slunk down in his seat. The Empire. The Romulan Star Empire, in all its corrupt, decadent majesty. Even now it was planning for the end of the Dominion War – how it might deal with a weakened Federation and Klingon Empire. Rubbing his forehead, Shinzon fought the urge to grab his blade and plunge it in A'mul's throat. If he had to listen to that idiot prattle on for one second longer, he'd…he'd…

"Tea. Hot."

A cup of the beverage appeared by his side. He was an alien on this ship. Not romulan, not reman, not even jem'hadar. Human. A weakling who'd be dead within a decade bar a miracle. So if these were to be the last years of his life, he was going to enjoy them.

"Drinking so soon?"

A'mul, the twat. He just couldn't let go, could he?

"To our victory," Shinzon sneered, raising the tea cup.

" _My_ , victory," A'mul said. He returned his gaze to tactical. "You wearing the uniform of the Star Empire does not make you any more a commander than these beasts you surround yourself with."

"And wearing that uniform while you send my people off to die does not make you any more a warrior."

Now it was Shinzon's turn to smirk. A'mul couldn't touch him. After the war, maybe, but right now, they knew the truth – he was too great of an asset. The remans were too great of an asset. The Romulan Star Empire excelled in manipulating those around them. But they were just as adept as deluding themselves.

"To victory, A'mul," Shinzon said, finishing the tea. "And many more."

A'mul didn't answer. And Shinzon's smirk faded. Victory. He hadn't had victory since he'd been let out of the mines of Remus. And men like A'mul would be happy to put him back in there once the war was over.

"He troubles you."

Once again, Vruk was the master of observation. But Shinzon smiled. He was happy for friendship right now for all the good it did him.

"But it is nonetheless victory. And we know it is yours, no matter what others may claim."

Shinzon remained silent as reports came in – the ship had been taken. The jem'hadar all dead.

"I like it here in space," he said. He looked up at Vruk. "The stars, our destination – isn't that what the Federation says?"

"I cannot say."

"Darkness, is the essence of the universe," Shinzon murmured. "In almost every culture some fascination of stars develops." He frowned. "But we know the truth, don't we? Darkness is the blanket that wraps the universe in its misery. Darkness is where men like us are born." He glanced at A'mul, currently liaising with the captains of the other Warbirds. "And will return to, in time."

"In time," Vruk said. "How long, of course, is another matter."

"Yes." He glanced at A'mul. Wondering what it would be like to plunge a knife in his back. Or strangle him. Or do any number of gruesome things that would give him some level of satisfaction for what his bastard race had done to him. Still was, in a way, as his body deteriorated.

"Yes," Shinzon murmured, as he closed his eyes and dreamed. Of vengeance, and better days. Of a voice that would echo through the stars, and give even darkness pause. "Time is something I understand very well."


End file.
